The poster appeared in the school hallway one winter morning, bold letters above bowls of spices, sweets, and fragrant ingredients. “You Must Pick One Flavor: Your Answer Reveals What Kind of Person You Are,” it read. Students paused between classes, studying cinnamon sticks, peppermint candies, cocoa powder, and cranberries. What was meant as a simple quiz for the winter festival sparked something more.
People smiled, debated their choices, and the plain hallway felt warm and lively. Even teachers joined in, defending why vanilla suited them better than bold star anise or cedarwood. Maya, usually quiet and unnoticed, stopped in front of the poster. She had been feeling invisible all week, yet the bowls felt inviting. Cinnamon felt cozy, peppermint bright, cocoa comforting, and maple sugar gentle.
Her eyes settled on orange and clove, reminding her of winter evenings at home when her grandmother simmered fruit and spices. Without overthinking, she wrote her name under “Orange + Clove.” Later, the art teacher asked students to create a “Flavor Personality Wall” for the festival. Maya hesitated, then added, “Orange + Clove: Warm, hopeful, quietly strong.” Others read her note and nodded.
A classmate smiled, saying, “I picked cinnamon because it feels like home too.” A small conversation blossomed, and Maya no longer felt invisible. By the festival, the hallway had transformed into a collage of colors, scents, and stories. The poster hadn’t revealed anyone—it had simply given them a way to share themselves. Maya realized small invitations can open doors to connection, confidence, and kindness.
